Doomed
by Evie McPhey
Summary: A supernatural apocalypse is coming and Arthur Kirkland, Lukas Bondevik, and Vladimir Popescu are a bunch of idiots, trying to stop it. Everyone's doomed.
1. Chapter 1

**Arthur Kirkland—England  
Lukas Bondevik—Norway  
Vladimir Popescu—Romania**

 **Francis Bonnefoy-France**

 **Aurel Popescu—Moldova  
Emil Steilsson—Iceland  
Alistair Kirkland—Scotland  
Dylan Kirkland—Wales  
James Kirkland—Ireland  
Connor Kirkland—Northern Ireland  
Matthew—Canada  
Victoria—Seychelles  
Camille—Monaco**

 **Elizabeth Kirkland—Britannia  
Aldrich Beilschmidt—Germania  
Érik Køhler—Scandia  
Alexandrine Bonnefoy—Gaul  
Romulus Vargas—Ancient Rome  
Isabella Fernández Carriedo—Ancient Iberia  
Athena Karpusi—Ancient Greece**

In a town that shall be left unnamed, in an undetermined country, on an anonymous continent, where the only thing you shall know of it is that it's on planet Earth, three "celebrities" sat across from three reporters. Each of the reporters had matching looks of neutrality, matching glasses, and matching suits. The "celebrities", however, varied. The strawberry blond sat cross-legged with his hands on his knees and had a giant optimistic grin on his face, revealing a set of vampire fangs. Next to him, and in the middle, sat an ash blond with a hairclip that looked like a cross in his hair. He, too, had his legs crossed but wore a very neutral expression—almost a glare. Then, at the end of the couch, sat the leader of the Magic Trio; sitting in all his bushy-browed glory. He had a cup of tea in his hands and wasn't paying much mind to the reporters, but rather the ground.

"Mr. Popescu, are you sincerely telling us that you're a vampire? And, even if that is true, how come you've never bitten someone?" One of the reporters, across from the strawberry blond, questioned. The strawberry blond simply shrugged, "Nope," He answered, before his face crumpled up in thought, "But I almost bit my brother…"

"We snapped him out of it," The ash blond added, stopping the strawberry blond's train of thought before he went off to go hug Aurel another apology until the seven year old couldn't breathe.

"And yet you've been a vampire for five years," The second reporter clarified, waving his hand around vaguely. "Yep," The strawberry blond grinned, bringing a gloved hand to his lips to fiddle with. He had a habit of bringing his nails up to outline his lips. "I'm not buying it," The final reporter finished. The three reporters nodded amongst themselves, before getting up and leaving. Just entering the room, a Frenchman with wavy blond hair entered at the same time as the reporters left. "Goodbye," The leader bid to the reporters, eyes shut as the people the Magic Trio hated the most left. "How did it go?" The newcomer questioned, entering the room and filling it with his heavy French accent. "They still don't believe Vlad," The ash blond replied, but the strawberry blond—Vlad—just rolled his eyes. "Now that it's over," He began loudly, and getting to his feet, "I'm going to Aurel," Aurel is Vlad's little baby brother.

Once Vlad had left, the Frenchman turned to his British boyfriend with a raised eyebrow and devious grin, "Want me to swear at them in French for you, mon lapin?"

"Please," The leader began, sarcastically, "I don't even mind swearing at them in English at the moment," Sucking in a deep breath, the Briton got to his feet and yelled, " _Goodbye and good riddance, you bloody twats!_ " He screamed. The Frenchman frowned, before pulling himself together and flashing his charming grin, "Au revoir," He smirked, giving a wave of his fingers as he placed one hand on his hip and winked. Good thing he was in a relationship, or else he wouldn't be able to tell himself that he was acting.

"I'm impressed that you didn't call them anything but twats this time," The Norwegian ash blond told the leader, standing up to find his sixteen year old brother and nag him into calling him "big brother". The leader sighed, running his hands through his hair, "No one ever believes us," The Frenchman bit his lip, sitting on the armrest to help comfort his boyfriend. "Non, non, non. That is not true," He corrected, "Your brothers and friends believe you."

The leader glared at him from between his fingers, "Come on, Francis; you know Emil doesn't believe in this stuff. Or maybe just doesn't want to…"

Francis smirked, "And Emil's a moody teenager. He has no jurisdiction in your territory, mon cher," The Briton rolled his eyes while Francis started kissing his cheek.

"I guess… I wish mummy was still here, though," He sighed, looking at a picture of his mom distractedly.

But this is five years into the future. Let's go back to where it all began…

"See these boys?" Elizabeth Kirkland questioned the council of elders, skimming through a powerpoint filled with pictures of her second youngest son, one of Érik Køhler's kids, and a Romanian orphan. "Sì," Romulus Vargas simply nodded, with a drunken smile. Next to him, Aldrich rolled his eyes. He hated Romulus. But Romulus seemed to quite like him. "They're who we need," Elizabeth replied, going to the next slide where the more impressive stuff began to show up. Her son, Arthur, was tracing out pentagrams on his desk in his classroom, Érik's kid, Lukas, was reading a book on Nordic mythology, and the orphan Aldrich said he'd be dealing with, Vladimir, was playing with fire. "Isn't that dangerous?" Alexandrine Bonnefoy blinked and reeling back at the sight. "Yes, very," Elizabeth nodded, before getting to the point, "But anyway. We need them to help take care of an upcoming monster takeover."

"Takeover?" Isabella Fernández Carriedo echoed, her eyes growing wide in shock. She had no knowledge of this. "Didn't Romulus tell you?" Elizabeth questioned. All eyes fell on Romulus, who was shrinking into his seat. "He spent last night drinking," Aldrich explained, before being hit in the side by Romulus's fist. "Ow, what? I was telling the truth," Aldrich reasoned. And, soon, the two most powerful Elders started having a slap fight.

"Oh my god…" Elizabeth groaned while Alexandrine started scolding them like a mother. "So monster-hunters," Érik grinned curiously. "Yes," Elizabeth shrugged, with a matching apologetic smile, "We have to help them train. We've got guys from Northern Europe, Western Europe, and Eastern Europe."

Stopping his fight with Aldrich, Romulus looked up when he heard that. Or, rather, what he _hadn't_ heard, "Wait, what about Southern Europe?" He blinked. "Sadly," Elizabeth began, "If we go for Southern Europe, we'd be stuck with Isabella's airheaded son Antonio," Isabella's nose scrunched up when she heard that, "Athena's laidback son Heracles," Athena Karpusi was actually awake for that, "and your sons would be more focused on the women than the mission, I'm afraid," Before Romulus could rebut, he remembered how true that point was.

"Maman," All eyes transferred to the form of a twenty-one year old blond Frenchman with stubble lining his chin, "are these the boys you were telling me about last night?" He inquired, leaning against the doorway. This is Francis Bonnefoy. Francis is Alexandrine's oldest child, with a younger brother named Matthew Williams and two sisters named Victoria and Camille. "Oui, Francis," Alexandrine replied, smiling at him. "Look like a couple of a-holes," He smirked, turning on his heel to leave the Elders to their devices and utter silence.

"… See?" Elizabeth finally broke the silence, glaring at Alexandrine, "This is what happens when we let your son intern for us!"


	2. The Spark that Starts the Fire

**Ok, so I changed the age of Dylan in the story because I read somewhere that England's actually a little older than him, history wise :/ Not much has changed, just that Dylan's seventeen instead of nineteen**

Elizabeth walked into her home after another catastrophic Elders meeting and slumped into a seat at the dining room table. "Aye, Maw," Elizabeth opened her eyes to find her oldest son—Alistair (who everyone calls Scot because of his accent)—standing in the doorframe. He's twenty-one, attending college, but Elizabeth wouldn't let him leave the home. So he's staying here for college, along with Dylan and James. "Hi, Scot," She smiled. It's not like Alistair didn't mind being called Scot, either. "Where're your brothers?"

"Sup, Mam!" James called from somewhere else in the house, followed by a younger Irish accent from Connor, saying practically the same thing, only his was different. He said "sup, Mammy" instead. "Hi, boys!" Elizabeth replied.

Meanwhile, within the living room, Arthur, with his textbook opened in front of him, was tracing pentagrams into the table with his forefinger. "What're you doing?" His five year old brother Connor inquired from the couch where he was reading a picture book with James. It was no guess that James's favourite brother was Connor. "Homework," Arthur responded simply, resting his head on the heel of his hand. "No, you're not," Connor responded, shaking his head and now James was waiting for Arthur's response, "You're drawing something with your finger on the table!"

"No, I'm not!" Arthur snapped, rolling his eyes with annoyance. "He's tracing a pentagram, Con," James told Connor, who tried to echo the word, "Pent-o-gram," He pronounced, looking at James with big green eyes. "Eh, it's an 'a', but close enough," James shrugged, chuckling at Connor's big grin. "Mammy!" The Irish ginger started wailing, getting off of his brother's lap, and running for Elizabeth.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Elizabeth flashed her five year old a tired smile, picking him off of the ground and setting him on her lap. "Arthur's drawing pent-o-grams on the table!" Connor tattled. "Don't be a wee clipe, Conna'," Scot told his youngest brother, going through the cabinets to find his cigarettes. Connor nodded slowly, staring at Scot's tremendous height with his mouth in a little 'o'. "Really, now?" Elizabeth questioned, and Connor nodded again. "Probably trying to summon your father, again," Elizabeth joked, setting the laughing child onto the floor to let him go back to reading with James.

Just as Connor headed out of the room, Arthur entered, with a heavy glare set on his little brother, "Whatever the little wanker said is a lie!" He yelled, still watching Connor as the youngest Kirkland stuck his tongue out at him. "Don't call your brothers wankers, Arthur," Elizabeth sighed, running a hand through the brown hair that only one of of her sons had received from her. Behind her, Scot snickered at Arthur's choice of insults for their little brother, "I'm pretty sure Connor's not a wanker."

"Who knows what he's up to when James isn't there playing with him," Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms in frustration and glaring at the side. " _Arthur!_ " Elizabeth exclaimed, waking up. Scot just laughed even harder until he needed to support himself on the table, "Come on, Artie! You ken that Jamie doesn't leave Con alone," He laughed, wiping a tear from his eyes. "I can't believe you two," Elizabeth groaned, slumping onto the table. "You two are ridiculous," Finally, common sense has stepped into the picture. In the kitchen stepped in Dylan, the only male brunet in the family, arms crossed. "Hi, Dylan," Elizabeth groaned, smiling again. Remind her again why she had so many kids? Dylan smiled at her, before turning back to his brothers with a frown. Dylan was seventeen but had the most sense out of his brothers.

"I heard the word "wank" and I figured Arthur was insulting someone again," The Welsh brunet told the pair of brothers, running a hand through his hair with a frown set on the pair of boys. "Artie was insulting Con," Scot accused, snickering at how Dylan's nose scrunched up in distaste. "I told you a thousand times, you twat, to stop calling me Artie," Arthur huffed, beginning to give up on his brothers. "You called Connor a wanker?" Dylan questioned, turning his distasted look to his second youngest brother. "I'm going to my room," Elizabeth announced, grumbling about being too old for this as she left. Before she could forget, however, she paused in her step. "Oh, Arthur?" She called, turning back to look at the soon-to-be monster hunter. "Yes?" Arthur reacted, pausing the argument going on between the three siblings. "Can I speak to you about…" She paused, too. What was she supposed to say? About the uprising of monsters? No, that was a secret thing. Even her own sons couldn't know about that. Well, the sons that weren't going to help save the city, that is. "You're excessive swearing?" Yes! Yes! That is a very good excuse! Now he'll _have_ to follow her!

There was silence for a moment, before Scot started oohing. Arthur and Dylan sent him glares, before Arthur agreed, "Sure," And he followed her out of the room. They passed by James and Connor, James helping Connor colour in a picture in his colour-in book. They passed by silently, though. No one said anything, or maybe James was just ignoring them.

Once they were in Elizabeth's room, the single mother turned to her second youngest son and crossed her arms. "Ok," Arthur began, interrupting her from starting, "I know you told me to stop, and I've been meaning to, but my brothers are so irritating!"

"Arthur," Elizabeth began, interrupting the explanation. She watched Arthur go from panicky to confused. "I'm not here to talk to you about the paranormal," Arthur cocked his head. Why would his mom want to talk about the paranormal? He wasn't associated with the paranormal. Unless… "Oh," His eyes grew wide, and he cocked his head, "are you talking about the pentagrams I was drawing in the table again?"

Elizabeth was about to tell him no when she stopped. It was kinda' true. Instead, she shrugged, "Yes, kind of," And Arthur bit his lip. He'd been doing that for a little while, now. He wasn't sure why. He read something on pentagrams and got into the designs. The one time where he tried one out was in his basement and Ivan Braginski ended up stuck in their floor for two days. Elizabeth almost had a heart attack from it. She'd gotten Ivan out of their soon after, so he's fine, now. He's still got a bit of a neck cramp, though. "What I'm talking about," Elizabeth went on, "is that there's a storm coming."

"A storm?" Arthur cocked his head, "I was just watching the news. They're never said anything about a storm," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Sometimes Arthur's lack of imagination was painful. Well, he had a bit of imagination, but his brothers called that "insanity". "No, Arthur," Elizabeth groaned, "I mean a metaphorical storm. I'm talking about a storm of the paranormal," Arthur blinked. She couldn't be serious, right? That moment with Ivan was a total accident! There's no such thing as paranormal activity, right? Ghosts and stuff don't exist. "Mom," He began slowly, "are you feeling ok?"

Elizabeth huffed, "Yes, I'm fine. A little hurt that you're not believing me, but fine," She crossed her arms and turned away from her second youngest son. Arthur smiled briefly, before taking his mom by the shoulders so she could face him, "Tell me what's going on, Mum," He insisted.

She smiled, before sighing and giving in, and spoke, "You know I'm a part of the Elders, right?"

"Yes," Arthur shrugged, releasing his mum.

"Well, we know things most people don't. And we know magic exists. And while magic exists, so does darkness. And in that darkness exists the paranormal. But the paranormal aren't life and they want that. That's why they come after humans. The Elders and I have figured this out from recent research and we're trying to pick out three new heroes to save us," Arthur's giant eyebrows (that run in his family, mind you) furrowed at the idea. All his life he was taught not to believe in the paranormal and now his mom was here and telling him to forget everything. In fact, James was currently trying to convince Connor that there were no such thing as leprechauns. "… Ok…" Arthur slowly nodded. Somehow, that was the right thing to say, and his mother grinned. "Good to know that you're following. Now," She turned away from him to face the window, "if you focus, some of the paranormal is already slipping into our lives. It's hardly there, but you need to focus. See that doll in the window?" Arthur approached his mother's side to look at what she was looking at. Across the street, in the window of the house across from them, sat a Barbie doll. So? What's so special about a Barbie doll?

"It's staring right into our window because it knows that I'm an Elder," Arthur looked to Elizabeth. Is she crazy? "Now, I know you're probably thinking I'm looney," Elizabeth smiled sadly, her eyes still cold as she stared at the lifeless doll, "But demons are known to use dolls to get to families to possess them. Just yesterday the doll was on the other side of the window."

"So?" Arthur questioned. She turned to smile at him with a now-tired smile, her eyes hard and lecturing, "Arthur," She began, "that family across the street have been on holiday since three weeks ago," She watched Arthur's eyes widen and her smile became real. She was convincing him. Perfect.

"So what do you want me to do?" Arthur inquired, actually tempted to agree. He just needed to know if he could fulfil the requirements. Elizabeth just grinned, "Easy," She began, "Just come with me to my next Elders meeting and be yourself."

And Arthur agreed.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Connor leaned his head back so he could look into his big brother's eyes, "Jamie?" He called. "Yes, Con?" James smiled slightly, looking from Connor's colour-in book to meet the younger Irishman's grass green eyes. "Can we play with my toys today? You said you would yesterday," Connor beamed, rolling over on James's lap and frowned when he saw James bite his lip. "What?" The five year old inquired. "I…" James began, "I'm sorry, Con, but I've got homework to do. See if you can get Dylan to play with ya', ok?"

"But he's horrible at the voices!" Connor cried, "Harry said so!" Harry's Connor's toy leprechaun. The past few days, Harry's been giving James the creeps. It just seems to be _there._ Always watching. Always knowing. He probably got it all wrong, though, considering there's no such things as ghosts. "Ok, then," James sighed, "I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to play on your own," Connor watched his favourite brother for a moment before nodding, "Ok," He was a big boy now. He didn't cry. He would just play on his own, "I'll just play on my own," He pulled a brave smile. Harry liked him. He wouldn't mind.

James smiled back, "Look at you," He grinned, and Connor giggled, "You're becoming a big boy now!"

After a moment or so, Connor left his older brothers in the kitchen to do their homework and ran upstairs to his room. Once he was inside, he shut the door and turned to his bed where Harry was sitting, smiling as always. "Harry," He began, jumping onto the bed and sitting on his knees at the foot of said bed, "will you play with me?"

Slowly, with no hand to hold it up, Harry the Leprechaun pulled his back off of the head of the bed and Connor grinned, "Of course I'll play with you, Connor," The doll spoke, but its' mouth didn't move. The voice came from nowhere. "We'll be best friends… forever," If you were older than Connor, you'd be able to see the haunted look the doll possessed in its' eyes.

But Connor just grinned.

 **I freaked myself out a little bit with Harry the Leprechaun XD**


	3. A Little Bit of Fire

**Georgi Hinova—Bulgaria  
Ludwig—Germany  
Gilbert—Prussia  
Basch—Switzerland  
Elizabeta Héderváry—Hungary**

 _Sharp pointed canine teeth, blood-red eyes, and a pale complexion made its' way towards him. The eyes just seemed to glow in the darkness, and the haunting way it swayed its' body just terrified poor Vlad. It wasn't until it came into the light that Vlad was able to figure out that it was himself. It made no sense. Why would he be seeing himself? Unless… "Oh," He spoke, "I'm sleeping, aren't I?" He didn't get an answer because the vampire-like being jumped on him and pierced its' long fangs into his neck. He didn't know what happened next, though, because he woke up._

"Ah!" Vlad screamed, shooting out of his bed. He was sweating a cold sweat before scrambling for a nearby mirror. Grabbing it in his trembling hands, he immediately focused on his reflection and sighed in relief. He saw big cerulean blue eyes staring back at him, with that little snaggletooth where his canine tooth was. Yeah, it was bigger than all the other teeth in his mouth, but what could he say? His orphanage was dirt poor and couldn't afford a simple dentist.

"Shut up, Vlad," Vlad's Bulgarian roommate, Georgi, mumbled, tossing a pillow at the Romanian's face. "Oi!" Vlad yelped as the pillow made contact. After a moment of silence, the pair laughed, "Sorry," Vlad apologised, nuzzling his face into both pillows. "It's fine," Georgi smirked, tiredly, "Just don't wake up screaming again and give me back my pillow," Vlad pouted for a moment, before snickering and giving it back. Once they'd calmed down, which didn't take long, Vlad turned over in his bed. What he saw, however, was not what he was expecting, " _Ah!_ " He screamed again. Standing next to his little brother's cot was a blond man, rocking Aurel's sleeping form. "What now?" Georgi turned on the lights, and then started screaming in unison with Vlad.

"Shush," The blond man silenced, and the duo bit their tongues to keep quiet, "You'll wake the baby," He was too intimidating for Vlad to correct. Aurel liked to be considered a big boy now that he was two, and Vlad was gonna give him that joy. Georgi tried to say it didn't work like that, but then Vlad covered his mouth and said it did. "Who're you?" Georgi whimpered, while Vlad internal shrugged. Stupid idiot's chosen way to die. Everyone should be given an option on how they should die. At least, that's how Vlad viewed it. "Aldrich Beilschmidt," The blond man replied, standing up and moving away from a now wide awake Aurel, who was staring at him in fascination. Vlad made a quick move out of his bed and picked the small two year old up in his arms. Aurel immediately clung to him.

"Now which one of you is Vladimir Popescu?" Aldrich looked between Vlad and Georgi, who exchanged a look. Vlad's blue eyes plead Georgi's green ones not to tell, and, with Georgi being as impulsive as he is, agreed to not tell. Suddenly, though, an unexpected treachery came from an unlikely source (kind of). Aurel suddenly shouted out a loud "Vladdy!" and stated pulling on Vlad's cheeks. The Romanian, however, wasn't paying attention; he was too busy staring at the blond man and waiting for a reaction. All Aldrich did, though, was smirk, "I thought so," Before he could continue, though, Aurel started speaking while lightly smacking Vlad's cheeks, "Vladdy, the blond man's scaring me,"Aurel whimpered, stopping his smacking and, instead, snuggling into Vlad's chest. "Yeah, me too…" Vlad whispered, his eyes still trained on Aldrich.

The blond man sighed, shaking his head a little, before sucking in a deep breath and smiling like a true American. Even though he was German, "I am the father of two biological sons, two adoptive songs, and a little girl. I know how to get what I want with children," The three younger boys stared at the blond with big eyes, before Aurel suddenly yelled out what was on all their minds, "That's not better!"

Aldrich rolled his eyes, approached the bed where Vlad and Aurel were sitting, "Listen, kid," He addressed Aurel, whose big brown eyes were trained on the man, "Do you believe in ghosts?" Aurel just kept staring, before looking up at Vlad with curiosity, "Big brother, what are ghosts? Huh?" But when he looked at the seventeen year old, all he saw was an absolutely pale strawberry blond shaking. Next to him, Georgi sighed, "He's afraid of ghosts," The Bulgarian explained, resting his head in the palm of his hand.

"Hmm," Aldrich hummed, before standing up, "Well, if you can't handle ghosts, then I might as well ask Georgi to help. But, of course, I can't," Vlad's colour returned as he cocked his head, "What do you mean?"

"You see that candle over there?" All eyes directed to the candle that Aldrich was pointing at. Vlad bit his lip upon seeing the fire. He just couldn't resist it; so intriguing and so inviting. "Da," Vlad spoke, trying to hide his pyromania for a moment. "You're a wizard, Vlad," The Romanian's eyebrows furrowed. Before he could speak, however, Georgi spoke for him, "Hang on a minute," He said, bending over the gap between his and Vlad's bed, "Is this some sort of Harry Potter prank where you turn out to be Ashton Kutcher taking a break from Hollywood?"

"Do I look like Ashton Kutcher?" Aldrich raised an eyebrow at the younger dark-haired man, who started shrinking back to his own bed. Aldrich sighed and turned his sights back on Vlad, "I know you set that candle alight without the use of matches."

Vlad bit his lip. He'd only ever told Aurel and Georgi about his little… _pyrokinesis._ Unless… " _You told him!_ " Vlad accused, pointing a finger at his dark-haired roommate. "What!?" Georgi cried back, "No! I don't even know who he is!"

Aldrich sighed, rolling his eyes. He swore, if these two weren't Eastern European orphans, they could've been his own sons. He didn't care which; they all fought the same way. Except for Basch. He'd pull a gun on his opponent (despite only being thirteen). " _Vladimir,_ " The arguing silenced, and the duo looked to him, "I just want to speak to you alone. Outside, if we may," Vlad gave a curt bow of his head, before scrambling out of the blanket mess and leading Aldrich out of the room. Once they were gone, Georgi turned to Aurel with a tired smile, "How 'bout we both go back to sleep and catch up with Vlad in the morning?" He offered. Aurel shook his head.

"No?"

"There're monsters in the closet," Aurel pointed to the small closet leaning against the wall, both doors wide open. "Monsters?" Georgi echoed in a childlike voice, "Ok, how 'bout I check it out?"

Aurel buried himself under Vlad's blanket, so only his eyes, nose, and the two tufts of unruly dark hair poked out from underneath, "If you go in the closet, you'll _die,_ " Georgi stared at the two year old for a moment, before smiling to himself and opened the closet, "That's a chance I'm willing to take, Aur—" Before Georgi could finish his sentence, though, a cold breeze phased through him and he heard a distant voice whisper 'soon' in his ear.

"I want you to show me your fire," Aldrich whispered to Vlad once the pair were in a quiet part of the orphanage. "Excuse me, sir," Vlad began, crossing his arms, "I can't just "show you my fire"."

Aldrich huffed, crossing his arms too, "Ja, you can, _I've seen you do it._ "

Vlad's hands moved to his hips, with a stunned look on his face, "Are you _stalking_ me?"

"I'm an _Elder!_ "

"Well, that's just as bad!"

"Do you not know what an Elder is?"

"Of course I do," Vlad shrugged, "Nurse Cecilia's one. She's got silvery hair, wrinkles, and a bit of a hu—"

"Not _that_ type of _Elder,_ " God, if Aldrich could choose, he would've just gone for Ludwig and get it over with. But, sadly, Ludwig had the creativity of a lawyer and strange interests. Especially in old German fairytales—the ones with the gory endings. Well, he's not the only one. Gilbert had a strange interest in them, especially Hansel and Gretel. Aldrich found that worrying.

"Sorry," Vlad shrugged, apologetically. "Just _try,_ Vlad," Aldrich insisted, grabbing the strawberry blond by his shoulders. They both knew what Aldrich meant. Vlad stared into Aldrich's icy blue eyes and searched for a reason. "Why?" He quietly whispered, when he couldn't find one. Aldrich released Vlad from his grip, "Vlad," He began, "Obviously you know what monsters are, right?"

Vlad nodded, "Of course," He spoke, "The kids love monster stories here."

Aldrich nodded back, "Well, did you know that they're real?" Vlad's eyes shot wide open and his skin paled, "You mean…?"

"Ja," Aldrich nodded, "And they're planning an uprising, which we have to stop," Vlad's skin paled even more. Monsters? As in vampires? As in that dream he'd just had? "And, so far, the Elders and I need you and two others to help."

Vlad thought. Yes, he didn't normally mind monsters (except for ghosts and vampires, as of lately, which is weird since he's Romanian) but the dreams he's been getting made it a bit worse. But he'd always suck it up for Aurel when he'd search the closet, because he knew nothing was impossible; such as finally convincing Elizabeta Héderváry that Transylvania is in fact Romanian, not Hungarian. He knew his facts, and so did she; she was just stubborn and liked annoying him. "I-I guess I can suck it up for Aurel…" Vlad shrugged, meeting Aldrich's eyes hesitantly. The blond man with a braid cascading down his hair nodded slowly and caught Vlad's shoulders again, "Then show me that you are Vladimir Popescu."

Vlad nodded, before looking to his shaking fingers. He closed them and snapped. In the blink of an eye, the tip of his thumb was ignited in a small flame. Aldrich flashed a small smile and nodded, "That's what I wanted."


	4. Power in the Blue

**Mathias Køhler—Denmark  
Berwald Oxenstierna—Sweden  
Tino Väinämöinen—Finland  
Leon Wang—Hong Kong  
Lilli Vogel—Liechtenstein**

Ah, IKEA. As a man named Johnathon Coulton once said, "just some oak, and some pine, and a handful of Norsemen". And he'd be right. For within one IKEA were four true Viking descendants, all of which knew each other quite well. There were the brothers, Mathias Køhler and Berwald Oxenstierna (don't ask about the different surnames), Berwald's boyfriend Tino Väinämöinen, and Mathias's best friend Lukas Bondevik. Berwald worked as a manager, due to his love for furniture. Mathias didn't mind his position; he loved making the meatballs; Lukas did them with him. Of course, they'd also help set up the display furniture, but Berwald found it tedious when they'd get their Swedish screws mixed up. But then Mathias would argue that they sound and look practically the same. And then the Swede would tackled the Dane (they're still biological brothers. Amazing, huh?) and they would start wrestling on one of the bed displays.

That's how Mathias got himself suspended to meatballs.

Berwald's very passionate about his IKEA furniture. Heck, the only thing he's more passionate about other than furniture that folds in on itself and Ike the snake is Tino.

Recently, though, Lukas has been getting the chills every time he entered the IKEA. He never went there unless he was with his friends. It was mostly in the storage rooms. Especially Storage Room C. Every time he went in there, he thought he could see shadows flashing across the walls. One time, which was one of the creepiest times and the reason he's never going back in there, he heard a box crash to the floor and when he went to investigate, there was no one there. Lukas made sure to keep himself on meatball duty after that.

He was guessing he shouldn't have brought his little brother to the IKEA if he figured it was haunted, but Emil really wanted to see the place; their parents wouldn't let them go anywhere. Yeah, their parents were uptight.

"I'm bored," Emil announced for the umpteenth time that day, swinging his legs from where he sat on a fold up chair. "Yeah, I know," Mathias grumbled, crushing a meatball a little tightly, "Oh," He sounded when he noticed that he'd have to reform it. "Don't get mad at Emil," Lukas glared. Or smiled. You could never tell with him. His face was an enigma that Mathias constantly tried to decipher. "Sorry," Mathias grinned, turning his head to glance at the Norwegian. "Hey, I found this in the kids' toy section," Tino announced, arriving in the kitchen with Berwald in tow, holding a sock monkey, "I thought Emil might like it."

"That's a nice thought," Lukas began, "But it's kinda' creepy, don't you think?" He took the toy from the Finn's hand and stared it in the eyes. "What?" Tino inquired, taking it back, "I thought it was kinda' cute."

"Ja," Berwald grunted, tossing a screwdriver in the air and catching it again. "I'm eleven, Tino," Emil told the Finn, "Aren't I too old for toys?"

"What're you talking about?" Mathias laughed, pausing from his meatballs, "You still sleep with that stuffed puffin Lukas got you when you were born!" Yes, Lukas and Mathias had been friends for a long time. They were born in the same hospital, actually. Mathias was born June 5, though. He and Berwald were practically twins, but they were completely against being called so, Berwald mostly because he was younger and because they were born a year apart. It was just weird. But Berwald was taller so people just assumed when they brought up how close their birthdays are. Lukas was older than both of them, being born on the seventeenth of May, with Emil's birthday on the seventeenth of June. They'd mock Tino, jokingly, about this since he was born in December, but Tino didn't care. He loved Christmas. His parents didn't, though; it meant buying more presents for the cutesy little blond.

"I can't believe you just told him that, man!" Emil cried out. Despite not being everyone else's age, he was still accepted among them. Lukas would oftentimes scold him for not having any eleven year old friends and then confuse him further by telling him not to play with that Hongkonger Leon Wang. "Sorry!" Mathias laughed, while Lukas rolled his eyes. He was focusing on finishing up the meatballs for the customers. If they could find their way around, that is. One time an Austrian man ended up getting so lost he wandered into the kitchen and Lukas led him back to the exit. The Norwegian made sure to steer clear of the haunted storage room, of course.

"God, you're all a bunch of jerks," Emil rolled his eyes, sliding off the chair, stepping towards the meatballs, and stealing one for himself. Mathias gaped at the action while Lukas actually smirked. He had raised Emil well. "Hey, Mathias," Berwald spoke, catching the Dane's attention away from Lukas's Icelandic brother. "Hmm?" Mathias hummed, head snapping around to the Swede. Yes, they were both half Danish half Swedish, but they claimed they were fully one of each. "I need your help with something in Storage Room C; there's a couch in there that's too heavy for me to carry on my own," Berwald explained, and Mathias nodded. However, Lukas made a weird little sound in the back of his throat when he heard 'Storage Room C'. It caught everyone's attention. "You alright, Lukas?" Tino inquired, settling on one of the other foldout chairs Emil had originally been sitting on. But Lukas wasn't alright. He really, _really_ hated that storage room. "Uh…" He decided to lie, for the time being, "Ja, sure."

Tino gave a slow nod. He highly doubted that. But he'll let it slide for the moment being. Emil cocked an eyebrow. He knew his brother and could tell there was something wrong. But he'll let it slide for the moment being. Mathias, unlike what others thought, could actually _identify_ the atmosphere in the room and could read when people were uncomfortable. And, at the moment, Lukas was uncomfortable. But he'll let it slide for the moment being. Berwald was good at reading people. He made up for his lack of emotion with people skills, surprisingly. How do you think he got himself a boyfriend? There were some ups to being related to Mathias, y'know. He knew Lukas was uncomfortable, too. But he'll let it slide for the moment being.

"See you in a minute, Luke," Mathias nodded, all smiles gone. He wanted to know what was bothering Lukas about Storage Room C, but he needed this job. If he didn't, his dad would end up driving him out of the house by playing Elvis, or whatever, and dancing. Yeah, Érik was the type of dad to scare his kids into leaving the house.

"Lukas," Lukas abruptly replied, but otherwise not saying much else. Mathias gave a small nod, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Something was bugging the ash blond, he knew. But he couldn't resist the temptation of something else to do other than meatballs. When the brothers left the kitchen, however, they both nodded at their father that was making his way towards them, "Hej, Far," Mathias flashed him a small smile, following his younger-but-taller brother to the storage room that Lukas seemed so afraid of. All Berwald did, however, was nod and nothing else. "Hej, boys," Érik smiled, pausing in his step to grin at them. "We'll be with you in a moment, we're just gonna finish something up in the storage room," Mathias told him, and Érik nodded, "Take your time!"

Really, Érik was only here for Lukas. Yeah, his sons were great, but he was here to discuss the supernatural uprising. He was sure Lukas would either agree or laugh. Or make something identical to a laugh. Érik once heard the boy laugh; it was the worst thing in the world. So Mathias had to stop being so clumsy.

"Oh!" Tino piped up once he noticed the Scandinavian in the doorway, before grinning and waving, as he walked past him and headed back to cashier, "Hi, Mr. Køhler!" Érik rolled his eyes with a smirk. Tino was a good kid. He never called the Scandinavian 'Érik' no matter how many times he'd insisted on it. Érik practically saw the kid his son-in-law. In fact, he was even the one who gave the Icelander-Norwegian person "the Talk" and then proceeded to ask if the child knew his sexuality. He didn't. But, of course, if Emil did come out gay someday, Érik would be the first one he'd come to. Érik always was the first one they'd come to. Of course, that had been Berwald and Tino at two different times, but two out of five ain't bad, y'kno? He'd accepted Berwald's sexuality a long time ago, which then started an awkward conversation about Mathias's sexuality. The Dane just ran out of the room, not wanting to discuss the topic. Érik heavily believed this meant his oldest son was just hiding deep in the closet. So deep, in fact, he was halfway to Narnia.

"Hey, Tino!" Érik greeted. He flashed a grin at the eleven year old—Emil—that was biting into another meatball, awkwardly, now, since he was caught. Érik chuckled, shaking his head. He remembered when Mathias and Berwald would raid the cookie jar when they were younger. "Hei, Érik," Lukas greeted, distracted with making up for the meatballs Emil had eaten. Upon seeing Lukas, Érik's smile became a grin and he made a move to the Norwegian. When he noticed Emil staring at him, he shut his lips and winked at the eleven year old, holding a finger to his lips. Emil just shrugged and paid his attention to the meatball he had in hand.

Érik stared at the kid with an amazed smirk. The kid was so much like his brother, it was unnerving. He'd throw people under the bus, but he really did care for them. Like how Lukas would throw Mathias under the bus in any situation. At first, Érik didn't really approve of the abuse in this relationship, but then he found out Mathias had started choking on something and Lukas was the first out of a room of doctors to give him the Heimlich. Of course, the doctors were eye doctors, but doctors are doctors. They were at Berwald's eye check-up with Tino and Emil in tow.

In fact, when Érik had confronted Lukas a few months ago about his intentions with Mathias, Lukas simply shrugged and said 'he's my best friend'. And that was probably the best thing Érik had heard the stoic say about his oldest son ever.

"So, Lukas…" Érik began, casual as hell. He leaned one hand on the counter and dropped the other on Lukas's small shoulder. The Norwegian looked up from his work to eye his best friend's father. It was times like these Lukas loathed tall and muscular people, like the whole of the Køhler-Oxenstierna family, and loathed his own height and lack of muscle. But he could still strangle Mathias with his own tie without any trouble, so he thinks he made up for it. Érik's hand crushed down on his small shoulder that was probably two-thirds the size of said shoulder. The entire Køhler-Oxenstierna family was well built and tall. It was almost as though they were _bred!_ Anyway, enough of that oddly muscular family and back onto Lukas and his oddly scrawny appearance. "What do you want, Mr. Køhler?" Lukas never tried with Érik. He was kind of unpredictable. Came from his Viking genes, Lukas had guessed.

Érik had just laughed, though. So he was in a good mood, Lukas noted. "It's not _that_ bad, Lukas!" Ok, maybe it was, "I just have a small favour to ask you," Érik grinned at how the Norwegian cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it?" Emil inquired, speaking what Lukas was about to. "Sorry, Icy," Érik winked. They often referred to Emil as 'Icy' because of his Icelandic heritage and the fact that the Bondevik family had found and adopted him there. "It's a private thing I can only tell Lukas," Lukas's face crumpled up in thought, before meeting Érik's eyes, "Is this about me screwing Mathias in the butt again? Because I've never done it," Emil blinked, reeling back, while Érik paled. No, that was _not_ what he was going to say. "Well," Emil began, hopping off his chair and making his way to the door, "I've completely lost my appetite, now. If you need me, Stóri Bróðir, I'll be with Leon," Leon is a bit of a strange child. He was always wherever you were. At least, he was always where Emil was. Luckily for Emil, he was also best friends with Lilli Vogel.

"Ja," Lukas nodded, unfazed. Once Emil was gone, Érik grabbed the teen by his shoulders and shook him a little, "This isn't about butt sex!" Érik cried, before he released Lukas a moment later. Lukas stared at him for a moment, waiting for an answer. "It's about something far more drastic…" Érik whispered, leaning closer. After another awkward silence, Lukas responded, "I'm pretty sure there's nothing more drastic than HIV, Mr. Køhler," The stoic responded, returning to his regular facial expression. Érik rolled his eyes, exasperated. You know what he just remembered? Lukas was so damn stubborn. "I'm not talking about _sex,_ Lukas! I'm talking about the _supernatural!_ " He was guessing he shouldn't have dove right into the topic, but then again he never thought things through so he had no idea how to gently slide into the topic. Suddenly, though, Lukas tensed up and he was biting his lip. Easing his grip on Lukas's shoulders, Érik moved back a little and smoothed out his expression, "You've got familiar experiences with the supernatural, don't you?"

Lukas gave a curt nod, and Érik grinned. Before Érik could go on, however, Lukas beat him to it, "Storage Room C," Well.

Wait, wasn't that the storage room Berwald and Mathias had headed off to? "Um, I knew that," Érik awkwardly replied. Yes, he knew lots of things, being an Elder, but he just hadn't expected his sons' workplace to be haunted. "But what goes on in Storage Room C?"

"It's haunted," Lukas met eyes with Érik, "I was almost crushed by a couch, once."

Well.

"Don't look at me like that," Lukas hissed, wagging a threatening finger at the adult. Well, Érik might look like an adult but he was nowhere near one mentally-wise. Even Emil was more ahead of him with a matured mind. "I'm not," Érik replied, holding his hands up defensively as he began to explain his smile, "I'm just smiling because I think I've found the final member to the Magic Trio."

"Magic Trio?" Lukas raised a doubtful eyebrow. He wasn't expecting much from a name as bad as that. "What's that?" He decided to amuse the older and continued to ask questions. "I'm glad you asked, Luke," Érik grinned, sliding into the seat next to the Norwegian as he rolled his eyes. Like father like son, he guessed, "Lukas," He corrected, slumping into his seat and crossing his arms. "Sorry," Érik replied, before answering, "Now, the Magic Trio is this group the Elders and I are trying to set up to help stop the supernatural uprising."

Lukas stopped what he was doing. Ok, this sounded interesting. He turned in his seat to glance at his best friend's father with an intrigued eyebrow, "What type of supernatural?" He inquired, turning completely. "Anything out of the ordinary you can think of," Érik waved his hands briefly in the air, vaguely, and continued, "Like, we could get vampires, ghosts, werewolves… you know, the usual."

Lukas's face paled drastically, "… Ghosts?"

"Oh, right, you're afraid of ghosts," Now, Érik knew exactly what makes Lukas tick. He knew the boy was too proud to let anyone think he was afraid of something. That's why he strangles Mathias. "I am not!" Lukas exclaimed, louder than he normally did. His face returned in colour—going quite red, if anything—and sat straight, "I am not afraid of anything," He growled, violet eyes narrowing. "Good," Érik shrugged, with a smug smile as he crossed his arms, getting comfortable in his seat, "It's good to not be afraid. But it's also human to _be_ afraid. Oh, and hey! Maybe if you do this, Emil'll spend some time away from Leon and more with you," He knew he was asking for the impossible, here. But Lukas would go for anything if his brother admired it.

After contemplating the pros and cons of joining this 'Magic Trio', Lukas decided to go with the logical option, and met Érik's eyes, again, "Fine, I'm in."

Meanwhile, in storage room C, Berwald was getting annoyed, now. Mathias had disappeared into the depths of the storage room and still hadn't returned, "Oh my god, Mathias!" He called, loudly, into the large room, "If you're not gonna come back in a minute, I'm going to take the couch myself!" He crossed his arms and tapped his foot, waiting for a reply. Not long after, Mathias's voice called back, "I'm almost done! Just gimme a sec!"

Berwald sighed, rolling his eyes. He took his glasses off, shut his eyes, and leaned up against the couch he was supposed to be dealing with to clean, "I swear…" Before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off as something pushed him out of his body and took over.

"Hey, Berwald! I found this! I was thinking of giving it to Emil, y'know, as a birthday present. What do you think?" Mathias jogged up, a big smile on his face as he held a puffin alarm clock in his hand. When he looked up to see what was taking Berwald so long to reply, he saw the Swede groaning and getting up off the couch, his glasses forgotten on the floor. "Are you ok?" Mathias gasped, springing to Berwald's side and taking his hand. "I'm… I'm fine," Mathias blinked. Berwald was missing his odd speech impairment that made it hard for him to pronounce his vowels. Mathias's little brother opened his eyes, that quickly adjusted. Mathias took a hesitant step back, staring at his brother's face nervously.

"What was it you asked me?" 'Berwald' inquired, rubbing his temples and looking at Mathias with perfect clarity. "If you think Emil would like this…?" Mathias carefully passed the clock to the Swede, who accepted and looked it over. "I'm sure he'll love it!" Berwald grinned, handing the alarm clock back, and Mathias immediately decided on something.

This was not his brother.


End file.
